2009/02/10
And Yet Optemistic.
Issues surrounding the textile show really gets me down, and I suspect it has something to do with my relationship with my in-laws, or Ben's with his own family. I'm anxious about the work being done in my house, and I can't wait for it to be finished.
And yet, and yet, I've felt helplessly and helplessly optimistic about my 2009. I've no good reason to think that, nor know how or why the year is going to be so fantastic, but I feel it. And I usually see how things are going to turn out, however far off my pictures turn out to be, but in this case, I don't really have a good picture. Yet.
Lynne's this post liberated my head, and Connie's this post furthered my good mood. I know part of it must mean I'm really on the mend from nearly six years of mild-to-moderate depression. Work-wise I haven't committed to anything this year, except to a few commission I got last year, and to catch up with everything I've committed myself in the last... five years or so.
I don't see a picture of me getting into challenging exhibitions, not suddenly starting to sell more pieces, or more expensive pieces, at any of my venues. Rather, I feel myself sitting in the organized-and-spruced-up "design room", feeling enthusiastic and content, though I can't even see how I'm going to tidy the stash room.
It's been so long since I've felt this general uplifted-ness, and I'm holding on to it like there's no tomorrow. I want to believe in self-fulfilled prophecy.
And there's something so attractive about a big cloth covering everything in my living room. It's the biggest tarpaulin we found at the DYI store, bigger than what we needed, but I know we'll get good use from it. Have I crawled under it just to have a look? You bet!!
And yet, and yet, I've felt helplessly and helplessly optimistic about my 2009. I've no good reason to think that, nor know how or why the year is going to be so fantastic, but I feel it. And I usually see how things are going to turn out, however far off my pictures turn out to be, but in this case, I don't really have a good picture. Yet.
Lynne's this post liberated my head, and Connie's this post furthered my good mood. I know part of it must mean I'm really on the mend from nearly six years of mild-to-moderate depression. Work-wise I haven't committed to anything this year, except to a few commission I got last year, and to catch up with everything I've committed myself in the last... five years or so.
I don't see a picture of me getting into challenging exhibitions, not suddenly starting to sell more pieces, or more expensive pieces, at any of my venues. Rather, I feel myself sitting in the organized-and-spruced-up "design room", feeling enthusiastic and content, though I can't even see how I'm going to tidy the stash room.
It's been so long since I've felt this general uplifted-ness, and I'm holding on to it like there's no tomorrow. I want to believe in self-fulfilled prophecy.
And there's something so attractive about a big cloth covering everything in my living room. It's the biggest tarpaulin we found at the DYI store, bigger than what we needed, but I know we'll get good use from it. Have I crawled under it just to have a look? You bet!!
Anxious
Two nice builders, Shane and Ryan, have been working in the sweltering heat, first knocking off the concrete chimney, now demolishing the fire place from the kitchen. Everything is solid concrete, not concrete blocks, so I was warned tomorrow will be another excruciatingly noisy day. Yikes. I like these guys; they are polite, considerate, and efficient. But I can't wait for the demolition to be over. I can't stand the noise and my whole being feels gritty and dusty.Meanwhile, the Textile Awards show opens on Saturday. I got an invite; there was apparently a piece in the newspaper. And I'm being asked if I've put something in the show. And I can't believe how anxious I feel to be asked this. I thought I was over it. Wuss.
2009/02/09
To Our Australian Friends
We hadn't watched the news since we've returned, and never imagined it to be so bad! Sincere sympathies and good wa to our friends on the East Coast of Australia. I hope you get some reprieve soon.
2009/02/08
English Literature
It appears I have a new email friend Scott who lives in Atlanta, Georgia, and it appears he is one voracious reader. I wrote my usual shpil (sp??) about my post-Poisonwood Bible reading habits, Franzen and "The Corrections", Roth, my love for plays, including Shakespeare and Sheridan, but in the end I had to admit my fav author these last half a dozen years has been Nigella Lawson.
Then I said I haven't read nearly enough American classics.
I read "The Catcher in the Rye" in my junior (11th) year and thought it was the most boring, self-absorbed book I've ever read. And I thought "sonovabitch" was a code for an illusive Russian character, much to my classmates' delight, and asked Mr Wolf why it wasn't capitalized. And those are about the only "classics" I can recall. I read "The Scarlet Letter" after graduating from collage and loved the writing.
I had hoped to read American novels while I was an English major at college, in Minnesota, USA. It occurred to me for the very first time as I wrote today, (though I told him it was a while back), that in the US, English Lit means England-or-UK-English Literature, while in Japan, it means Written-in-English-of-All-Sort Literature. Because some readers and critics in Japan separate Scottish or Irish literature from England-English literature, when we say English, we mean the language.
Goolly Gee, the things you find out 30+ years after you graduate from high school!!! What a loss. Golly Gee. And five posts post-Etsy. So I can't shut up. Live with it.
Then I said I haven't read nearly enough American classics.
I read "The Catcher in the Rye" in my junior (11th) year and thought it was the most boring, self-absorbed book I've ever read. And I thought "sonovabitch" was a code for an illusive Russian character, much to my classmates' delight, and asked Mr Wolf why it wasn't capitalized. And those are about the only "classics" I can recall. I read "The Scarlet Letter" after graduating from collage and loved the writing.
I had hoped to read American novels while I was an English major at college, in Minnesota, USA. It occurred to me for the very first time as I wrote today, (though I told him it was a while back), that in the US, English Lit means England-or-UK-English Literature, while in Japan, it means Written-in-English-of-All-Sort Literature. Because some readers and critics in Japan separate Scottish or Irish literature from England-English literature, when we say English, we mean the language.
Goolly Gee, the things you find out 30+ years after you graduate from high school!!! What a loss. Golly Gee. And five posts post-Etsy. So I can't shut up. Live with it.
Done
We did finish stacking the wood, in a record less-than-four-hours, in what I think was the hottest, sunniest, stillest part of the day. Good on us!
Pushing vs Pulling
There is an old Japanese saying, "If pushing doesn't work, pull." It's similar to the one I've been repeating to myself for three or so years, "When in a real hurry, take the long way around."Indeed, Ben tells me there are a lot of Japanese tools that work when you pull, rather than push. Japanese saws cut when pulled and Japanese planers shave when pulled. Japanese knives when used on meat and fish, particularly the long skinny sashimi knives, cut when in a gentle pulling motion, so no use trying to chop the delicious fish. Same with Japanese swards, so you need to get pretty close to cut someone.
With Japanese brooms one is meant to gather the dust at your feet, and we don't have the equivalent of what we call "deck brushes", the kind you push away the dust. And the traditional carts, from just transporting things to a small shop/eatery, we pulled, not pushed.
I've been catching up with Connie Rose's personal blog, thinking I should be able to use this mentally to my advantage. Not sure how just yet.
Envy
Envy is an ugly emotion I struggle with. It never used to be like that, but I was influenced by a friend who envies, and from listening to her envying fairly constantly, I picked up the perspective. Around the same time, I quite my office job and faced this "art thing" seriously, depleting my bank account, so it became easier to envy.
But I envy selectively. I envy people who have lovely homes, clean, tidy interior or beautiful gardens, because I feel more relaxed in their environment than in mine. I envy people who can travel because I would like to do the same. I guess I'm envying their buying power.
I don't envy people who are slim and beautiful or are full of energy because in this department, one can only work with what one's given, and I wasn't given much to start with in this department except health, and I don't work as hard as I should. And I know this. By extension, I don't envy people who have nice clothes, but I envy folk with good taste in clothes, and those who have the patience to consistently present themselves well. I can't be bothered with my undertallness.
I don't envy people who are talented or successful in art because, again, one can only work with what one's got, and I'm in the process of finding out what I was given, and I know I don't work as hard or consistently as I should in this department, either. And I work slowly. And by extension, I don't envy people who get a lot of accolade for their art, deserved or not. I just don't like certain works of art, and love others.
I used to envy well-read people, because I can never seem to catch up, particularly since I started the art thing. I am a slow reader to start with, but I'd rather look at drawing and paintings and textile now than read. Or make things. So I'm not as envious, and I'm learning that there is much I can contribute in a good conversation not from having read things necessarily but having thought through something my way. I feel, in some ways, more mature this way.
I take full responsibility for what I do in my life, where I am, and even in my fate, some of which I don't create. I think I've become less envious as I've become older. Even if I envy someone one moment, I'd have forgotten in the next. I wished I could stop envying people for things I can't control for myself. I wished I could turn envy into a positive, proactive force, but I haven't found a way.
And I will envy you if you get a brand-spanking new loom of any kind, but especially a purpose-built computer-controlled one with 24 or 32 shafts. I'm trying to save up for that!
(And this is the second post AFTER the Etsy post, because I cheated with the Collingwood post!)
But I envy selectively. I envy people who have lovely homes, clean, tidy interior or beautiful gardens, because I feel more relaxed in their environment than in mine. I envy people who can travel because I would like to do the same. I guess I'm envying their buying power.
I don't envy people who are slim and beautiful or are full of energy because in this department, one can only work with what one's given, and I wasn't given much to start with in this department except health, and I don't work as hard as I should. And I know this. By extension, I don't envy people who have nice clothes, but I envy folk with good taste in clothes, and those who have the patience to consistently present themselves well. I can't be bothered with my undertallness.
I don't envy people who are talented or successful in art because, again, one can only work with what one's got, and I'm in the process of finding out what I was given, and I know I don't work as hard or consistently as I should in this department, either. And I work slowly. And by extension, I don't envy people who get a lot of accolade for their art, deserved or not. I just don't like certain works of art, and love others.
I used to envy well-read people, because I can never seem to catch up, particularly since I started the art thing. I am a slow reader to start with, but I'd rather look at drawing and paintings and textile now than read. Or make things. So I'm not as envious, and I'm learning that there is much I can contribute in a good conversation not from having read things necessarily but having thought through something my way. I feel, in some ways, more mature this way.
I take full responsibility for what I do in my life, where I am, and even in my fate, some of which I don't create. I think I've become less envious as I've become older. Even if I envy someone one moment, I'd have forgotten in the next. I wished I could stop envying people for things I can't control for myself. I wished I could turn envy into a positive, proactive force, but I haven't found a way.
And I will envy you if you get a brand-spanking new loom of any kind, but especially a purpose-built computer-controlled one with 24 or 32 shafts. I'm trying to save up for that!
(And this is the second post AFTER the Etsy post, because I cheated with the Collingwood post!)
Etsy Again
Ben reckons I shouldn't pile up so many chatty posts so as to bury an important (to me) one and relegate it to the "older posts" darkness. So can I please reiterate that I'd like your thoughts on the Etsy issue? And I won't post for the rest of the day. Nor Monday... Nor Tuesday... maybe... (Boy, that feels like getting grounded and not being able to see friends!)
Peter Collignwood DVD
As I have Randall Darwall, Mom had Peter Collingwood. She was understandably saddened to learn about his sudden death last year. Recently, though the English Guild's publication, I discovered the Complex Weavers folk produced an interview DVD with the great PC. (They say it's US$21 to Australia; do you think it'll be US$20 if they can toss it out the plane just before they get to Oz?)
The problem is, Mom hasn't got a DVD player or a computer. So I could get one for me, and somehow transfer it onto a video format she can view, or I could just ask her to go visit my siblings...
Either way, I can't do it just now because I'm having to sell 500 shawls or 1000 cashmere scarves to pay for the wood burner replacement!!
Has anyone seen the DVD?
The problem is, Mom hasn't got a DVD player or a computer. So I could get one for me, and somehow transfer it onto a video format she can view, or I could just ask her to go visit my siblings...
Either way, I can't do it just now because I'm having to sell 500 shawls or 1000 cashmere scarves to pay for the wood burner replacement!!
Has anyone seen the DVD?
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